


How to Pick Up Girls at the Grocery Store

by x119



Series: Curse of PUA [1]
Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x119/pseuds/x119
Summary: Strahd is an aspiring pick up artist. Rahadin is his unfortunate and mostly unwilling accomplice. On this glorious afternoon, Strahd is on a mission to put the moves on gorgeous women at the best pick up location in town: the grocery store. Obviously.
Series: Curse of PUA [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657348
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	How to Pick Up Girls at the Grocery Store

**Author's Note:**

> hey u want some bad content??? 
> 
> I DM a CoS campaign. Came up with this horrible idea when I incidentally discovered some guy's pick up blog called Alpha Male Tips (maybe??? god I wish I could remember it) that involve a lot of uh...... well, this. It was a real goldmine.

“Okay, is this thing on?” Strahd said, speaking to the Go-Pro camera concealed as a button on Rahadin’s shirt. Tiny as it was, he still managed to catch a hint of his handsome reflection in the lens: black hair expertly pushed back with nothing out of place, teeth whitened to perfection with the Crest White Strips he bought on sale last weekend (they were just too pricey otherwise), dark eyebrows groomed in a way that said “I care about my appearance but, like, not in an effeminate way”. In other words, he was perfect. 

“Yes, it’s on,” Rahadin answered with less enthusiasm than Strahd would have liked, flipping his phone screen around so Strahd could see himself in all his fish-eyed glory. 

He spoke into it again, louder this time, as if that could brighten his friend’s mood: “So, is it recording? We gotta get this for the website.”

“Yes, it’s recording,” he answered in the same, listless tone. He tapped at the screen several times while Strahd used the car’s interior mirror to check his reflection again. 

“I, um, I know you don’t want to hear this, but…” Rahadin said, struggling to find the best place to begin. Strahd’s expression soured in the mirror before he finally turned away from his preening to face Rahadin in the driver’s seat, the cracked leather interior of his rusty 1996 Chevy Impala crinkling with each movement. “I have some… concerns.” 

“What kind of concerns could _you_ possibly have?” Strahd sneered, waving his perfectly manicured hand dismissively. “You’re just the operator - my documentary crew, as it were.” He said it so shrewdly, as if it were something Rahadin should have been proud of. In reality, Rahadin took the position for what it was: discreetly following Strahd with a hidden camera while he harassed women in public places in an attempt to get what he and his bizarre internet following referred to as a “same day lay”. Rahadin had no idea why Strahd touted the success of this method on his Alpha Male Training blog, because it had certainly never worked for him. In fact, Strahd would be lucky if he didn’t get the police called on him on any given day. 

“I’m taking all the risk here,” Strahd continued. “This is the only grocery store in the west end that I haven’t been banned or forcibly removed from. This is our _last shot_ , Rahadin!”

“Why does it have to be a grocery store?” Though he knew Strahd wouldn’t elaborate - he had asked the question countless times and never received a satisfactory answer. 

“This is the way of the alpha male,” Strahd offered, which was pretty standard. Rahadin fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead turned towards the door, stepping out onto the pavement without looking back; if he didn’t get out now, Strahd would only spend another fifteen or so minutes “perfecting” his appearance, though it wouldn’t do him any good. 

“Now, you’re sure it’s recording?” Strahd asked. Rahadin nodded silently as he stepped out from the parking spot, capturing the immaculate Strahd on camera as he stood on the parking lot pavement just in front of the cart corral. 

“Hello to my viewers,” Strahd began, speaking rather awkwardly into the camera at Rahadin’s chest. Several other shoppers wandering through the parking lot seemed to notice them, but Strahd paid no attention; any time he was stared at in public, he would wrongly attribute the glances to his ravishing good looks. If he used any sense, he could have figured out that the stay-at-home moms who visited the local supermarket at two o’clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday were likely more confused than aroused by the presence of a man in ill-fitting business attire at the grocery store during regular work hours. 

“Today, we are going to pick up girls in the grocery store,” he continued. “I’m going to show you how to apply my Alpha Male Training to gorgeous 10-point blondes when you’re going shopping. Follow me!” He waved the camera forward and began to walk away, then quickly signalled with one hand for the video to cut; after editing hundreds of hours worth of these videos, Rahadin had memorized all of Strahd’s bizarre hand signals, including the one for star page wipes. How this enhanced the training, he didn’t know. 

“I’m going to ask this only once more,” Rahadin began again, knowing this chunk of video would be cut from the final product and he was free to speak. “Are you sure you want to do this? What would your parole officer say if he found out about this little trip? Hm?” 

“When have I _ever_ done _anything_ that could _possibly -_ ”

“You are one strike away from getting thrown back in jail!” Rahadin hissed from between his teeth. A mother pushing a stroller through the parking lot quickly shuffled away from them.

“That shouldn’t bother you - ”

“ _I’m_ the one who bails you out!”

They were approaching the automatic door now, and Strahd held up a hand to silence Rahadin’s questioning. They passed the threshold and found sanctuary in the cracker aisle before Strahd turned to the camera again. 

“Now, we’re going to check out some babes,” he said. “Hot women _love_ shit like salads and organic foods, so that’s the best place to find some top tier hotties. Right now, you can see we’re in the cracker and cookie aisle.” He gestured to his surroundings with open hands, a wide smile on his face. “If you’re into, like, chubby chicks, maybe you could check out this aisle. Fatties love those carbs.” Rahadin pinched the bridge of his nose and fought the urge to slap Strahd’s mouth shut himself. 

“Oh, come on!” Strahd protested right after motioning for a cut. “You know it’s the truth!”

“Can we please just get on with it?” Rahadin begged, scanning the perimeter for security guards or police or well-meaning citizens or _anyone_ who could knock some sense into Strahd. Strahd only laughed and patted him on the back.

“I know you’re eager to get at those hotties,” he said, completely misreading the situation, as he did more often than not. “You’ll have to let me at ‘em first, though.” 

The pair passed through the other side of the cracker aisle and doubled back towards the vegetable crisper, knowing that the organic foods section was located right next to it. Strahd, using what little tact he had, hid himself partially behind an end cap populated with chapstick as he watched women pass by, examining each one up and down in a massive show of disrespect. Most didn’t seem to notice, but several shot him disapproving looks or flipped him off as they passed.

“It’s working,” he said triumphantly to a rather disgruntled and embarrassed Rahadin waiting in the adjacent aisle, reluctantly capturing the “action” with his chest camera. 

“Working?” Rahadin repeated, keeping his voice down to a whisper in the hopes that any onlookers wouldn’t associate him with the human disaster objectifying women in front of him. “What part of this is working for you?” 

“Did you see that last one? The way she looked at me, she was practically - wait!” Strahd held up a hand to silence the already silent Rahadin as a woman rounding the aisle caught his attention: tall, well-built, with fiery red hair and dressed like she’d just come from the gym. She was holding a basket full of leafy greens, perusing organic peanut butter, completely unaware of what was about to happen to her. 

“You see that?” Strahd asked, bringing Rahadin around the end cap so the gorgeous conquest could be captured on camera. 

“Oooh no,” Rahadin said, his tone admonishing. “No, no, no.” One hand landed on Strahd’s shoulder as he tried to drag him into the adjoining aisle by his lapels, but Strahd did his best to quietly resist. 

“She looks like Tatyana,” he said, unable to take his eyes off the woman, even to scold his operator. “She’s perfect!”

“Uh yeah, we can’t do this again!” Rahadin hissed. “Tatyana - your _brother’s wife_ , I’ll remind you - has a restraining order against you for a reason. A really good, totally-enforceable-in-a-court-of-law reason.”

“But that’s not her, it’s just a girl who _looks_ like her!”

“That’s not the point!” Strahd scoffed at this, finally brushing Rahadin’s hand away, smoothing his lapels as he prepared to make his approach. 

“Strahd, you need to get over it,” Rahadin pleaded. “I mean, I hate to be brutally honest, but she never liked you. Actually, she hates you. She would probably kill you herself, but that would mean she had to get within 50 meters of you - which, I will remind you, is illegal, and - hey!” It seemed no matter how much Rahadin pointed out Strahd’s relevant criminal history, he was determined to make the approach, banking on his patented Alpha Male Training to get him laid in the next one-point-five hours. 

Reluctantly, Rahadin eased out beyond the end cap, pretending to browse the shelves of overpriced unsalted nuts while angling himself to capture the footage that would probably find itself in an evidence locker a few hours from now. 

Strahd approached, sure to keep his body language confident, and said, “Hey.” The girl looked up at him, jar of peanut butter in hand, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Uh, hey?” She said, already unimpressed. Not one to ever interpret social cues correctly, especially when they came from women, Strahd pressed on with his absolutely horrid pick up line. 

“Do you know Strahd? You seem familiar.” The woman let out a small, awkward laugh and shook her head. Strahd smiled and held out his hand. 

“Nice to meet you, my name is Strahd. And yours?” She paused for a moment to process the whole thing, staring at his outstretched hand with a blank look on her face, barely able to process what was happening to her. Rahadin had seen this kind of reaction often and told Strahd that, not only was this a horrible line, it also made absolutely no sense. But Strahd wouldn’t hear it and insisted that it worked. It was no surprise to Rahadin that it was failing him yet again. 

Eventually, the woman placed her peanut butter jar on an empty shelf space and took his hand in a loose, noncommittal grip for a split second before pulling away. 

“Ireena,” she said. Rahadin sensed she was putting in effort to sound as nice as possible, but he could tell by the note of disgust in her voice that she was unable to completely hide her discomfort. Strahd was oblivious to it all, of course.

“So, you look like a healthy young lady,” he said, completely unaware of how creepy he actually sounded. “You like, uh,” he glanced over at the jar she had put back, “peanut butter?”

“Yup,” she said, nodding slowly, giving him the once-over. “You, uh… look like a big jackass of a man.”

“Hey babe, I just - ”

“You like, uuuuuuh, harrassing women at the grocery store like a big fuckin’ loser?” She mocked him, unable to stop herself from laughing as she finished. Grabbing her peanut butter from the shelf, she went to move past him, but Strahd, never one to give up even when it landed him in custody, spread his arms out and blocked her path. 

“Hey, come on,” he said, smirking as if it were all some big joke. Ireena looked decidedly less impressed, a scowl forming on her face as she clutched her peanut butter jar close. 

“I’m just trying to talk,” he continued. “You can talk for a moment, can’t you?”

“Nope, can’t do it. I’m - ” She tried to move past him in the opposite direction but he quickly boxed her in again. Rahadin risked moving a little closer to capture the rising action, scuttling away from unsalted nuts and settling firmly into raw oats. 

“What’s with that frown?” Strahd continued. Rahadin sighed over the sacks of flavourless grain as he prepared himself for what was to come.

“You’d be a lot prettier if you smiled.” Rahadin glanced up from the raw oats ingredient label he was reading (“Ingredients: Raw Oats”) and saw the redhead was positively fuming, knuckles white on the basket that held her groceries. He wouldn’t be surprised if the peanut butter jar crumbled beneath her fist. Just as he adjusted his chest cam to better capture the upcoming onslaught, a man entered the shot: he was wearing the same graphic shirt as the woman (though his was pulled taut across his chest and perfectly outlined his raging pectorals) but otherwise bore little resemblance to her with his blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, and he was huge; he easily towered over both conversationalists, dominating the organic foods aisle with his size alone. 

Reflecting for a moment before impending disaster, Rahadin realized that Strahd _was_ typically good at one thing: targeting women who were alone. It was just bad luck that that skill seemed to fail him today of all days, leaving him to contend with this hulking beefcake of a man who was certainly going to kick his ass right here and now in front of five different flavors of vegetable chips. 

“Is this guy giving you a hard time?” He asked Ireena, barely paying Strahd any mind. Rahadin could tell that Strahd had begun to sweat beneath his cheap suit - it was a good thing he had decided to go with the extra-strength deodorant before they left for the day, because there’s no way Strahd could afford to dry clean that thing again after splurging on Crest White Strips. 

“Yeah, he’s being a bit of a dick,” Ireena answered with a nod and a shrug of her shoulders. 

“Looks like a dick,” the man agreed after taking in the sight of the pathetic man who was trying his best not to cower openly before him. Strahd found it in himself to move, shaking his head in opposition to their claims of his dickishness. 

“I’m sorry, it seems we’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding,” he stammered, barely managing to get through the whole sentence. He looked at the man and asked, rather timidly, “Are you her boyfriend?” 

“No,” he said quickly, a disgusted expression crossing his features for just a moment. “I’m her brother.” Oh, well… As he listened in, Rahadin couldn’t decide if this was better or worse. Probably worse.

“Oh!” Strahd exclaimed with a nervous laugh. “Well, can I ask you something, then?”

“What?” Rahadin couldn’t remember the last time he had witnessed a man both look and sound _that_ unimpressed. The only thing that could come close was when he’d presented Strahd’s blog as evidence in his last sentencing hearing and the judge’s only comment was “are you kidding me?” 

“So, man to man, there’s something I’d like to know,” Strahd began, seemingly regaining some of his confidence. Ireena’s brother eyed him with healthy suspicion and a raised eyebrow. 

“Is your sister single?” 

Without waiting for her brother’s answer, Ireena shoved her peanut butter jar into his hands and pulled her fist back, winding up for a punch. 

“Wait - ” But she was done listening to Strahd and promptly sent his teeth crashing together with a loud crack as her fist met the side of his jaw. The force of it knocked Strahd on his back and he writhed on the tiled floor of the grocery store, winded and in pain.

The two siblings high fived each other and Rahadin watched them go without further incident, leaving Strahd alone on the floor, moaning and spitting up blood. Rahadin slipped his phone out of his pocket and stopped the recording, satisfied. 

He had finally captured something worthwhile. 


End file.
